Everything Has A Price
by transcendantviewer
Summary: Life, death, decay, longevity, torment, pleasure; doesn't matter what it is, it always has a price. Sometimes, it's just easier to pay.
1. Purchasing Freedom

_**Author's Note:**_

_** With my previous story, "Monstrous Occurrences" all wrapped up, I figure it's time to try my hand at another D&D story. This follows a campaign that I am (Sort of) DMing as well as playing in. My friend and I started it as a way to pass time and get into our characters a bit. It's a different setting from the campaign he and I do with our characters, but the idea just struck me and I wanted to pursue it. His character is Torp, mine's Dreadnought. Rated Mature for detailed renditions of fantasy violence, sexual themes, potential or suggested drug abuse and language. Reader discretion is advised.**_

_**Everything Has A Price.**_

_**Chapter 1: Purchasing Freedom.**_

Life, death, decay, longevity, torment, pleasure; doesn't matter what it is, it always has a price. Sometimes, it's just easier to pay. I guess you could say I'm lucky. I don't have to pay for much in this world. Am I a man of means? Hardly. Am I unnaturally lucky? You'd have to ask the gods on that one. Is it because I don't need much to survive? Probably. Whatever the reason, I'm in a good place.

Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Dreadnought. I'm what's called a Warforged. Imagine if a life wasn't born but was instead forged. What should be flesh is steel and magic lay in the stead of a soul. My kind looks to be metal and wooden renderings of other creatures. The standard Warforged looks like a heavy, powerful man with thick, burly forearms and hands with only three digits. Their feet only possess two toes and their faces appear cold, expressionless, and experienced from battle. I am a different model. Some might say I'm the "Genesis of Warforged Construct Perfection" I see myself as more of just a walking, thinking siege engine that can decide not to assault a tower.

All this formality is getting boring... Hey, Torp. How long am I going to be talking to these guys?

Probably another five minutes or so.

Alright then. I'll make this brief. I'm what's called a Warforged Charger. My class of Warforged looks to be towering, hulking and intimidating gorillas made out of metal. We specialize in demolitions and shock warfare. We hit where the structure is most sturdy to weaken it, and then we bash it all down. Now that you know my life story, sir, can you let us out of detention now?

"Yeah, sure, you two are free to go. Got no reason to hold you if you don't do anything wrong." The guard replied, nodding to the mage on the far side of the room. The mage reacted by lowering his hands, the subtle white light coming from them dispersing and an invisible, unbreakable wall flickering before shattering from around Dreadnought and Torp.

Torp stood as a small, light red skinned and petite goblin woman. At 3'4'' she was at an average height for a goblin however, she was much more attractive than the usual raider. Her skin supple and light compared to other goblins, a single tooth sticking out over her bottom lip and not a single goblinoid blemish on her face. Despite her lineage, she possesses rather gentle features, ones that made her appear unattractive to others of her kind, but making her seem somewhat cute when observed by those of other, more congenial races. She carried a staff that stood nearly twice as tall as she is, a preserved crow on the end in a position as though it were about to attack. She wore a dark grey leather cloak with a hood obscuring some of the upper half of her face. Her dull goldenrod eyes alight from beneath the shadow overcast by the hood. The cloak she bore on her shoulders covered a psionic robe that clung to her torso slightly and covered every inch of skin that she possessed as to not draw attention to the various tattoos inscribed on her body.

Dreadnought, on the other hand, was a brute in nearly every sense of the word. His body, size, strength, and appearance were impressive, even among others of his kind. Standing 11'6'', weighing 2400 lbs and with spikes protruding from his overhanging, obtuse lower jowl, he looked menacing, even when in a jolly mood. His strength alone would have been enough to burst through the ceiling of the cell that had confined the both of them. His eyes were a constant burning crimson erupting from his armor-like face with determination. Spikes protruded from his body like trees in a forest, forming heavy, barbed pieces of his body that could kill a lesser creature simply if he bumped into them accidentally. He carried no weapons, only a sack on his side that looked to be almost completely empty, held in place by only a single strap around his chest. Slashes from many battles on the forefront of conflict marred and cracked the surface of his powerfully and expertly crafted body. His lower body took on a distinctly humanoid shape, looking almost as though his top half didn't belong with the rest of him simply because of how thick and large his arms and torso were in regards to his legs. Measured in width, his arms were as thick as a human torso while his legs looked as though they were better suited to an 8' foot tall half-orc. He walked on all fours, his knuckles leaving spike marks in the ground like treads with each motion, even when he walked over the sturdiest of substances. Due to this fact, when in cities such as this, he made it a habit to walk on his back legs, leaving his massive arms to dangle on lowered shoulders, the knuckles on his final finger joints barely above the ground and his torso slumped forward.

Dreadnought and Torp walked out of the cell, Torp looking straight and ignoring the guardsmen while Dreadnought strode past them, leering down at them, his expression doing nothing to obscure the look of sheer annoyance in his eyes.

The guard walked ahead of them and opened the doors that led out of the ground and into the immigration center of the city. "We are deeply sorry for this unpleasant welcome; we rarely see kinds such as you. Please, take this humble apology and this map of the city. May your stay in The Chronosphere be long and fruitful." The guard said, nodding to them as they passed. Dreadnought made a soft grumble, nodding in return while Torp simply made a frustrated grunt as she too left out into the surface.

The Chronosphere. The Endless City. The Plane of Trade. The World That Scrapes the Sky. A trading hub for all the Planes. Not a single land knows not of this place. Renowned as an arcane marvel to behold, the city lay above and beyond the domain of any lord or state. Between reality and nothingness, that was the location of this hub. It readily received visitors of all creeds, kinds, and orientations, with proper processing, of course. A single mysterious feature stands out on this plane; reality is tailored to you. You could be an Illithid out and about in the time of day when the sun would be its brightest and feel as though you are standing in the darkest of caves. You could be an Inevitable and feel like you were peering out from your great cog, Neumannus. Or even a Merfolk, wandering the streets, breathing the air as though it were water. This feature means that when something like a Succubus dies, they can be revived just as easily as anyone else; almost as though everyone were a local, like they were born, raised and natural there. Reality bends to suit those that perceive it on this plane.

As the two of them walked up the staircase, Dreadnought using the palms of his hands to avoid damaging the structures as he climbed them, Torp said something to him.

"What do you think life here is going to be like?" she asked, getting him to glance over his shoulder at her quickly.

"I don't know." He replied, reaching the top of the staircase and opening it to the Immigration center of the city-world. The room, alight with a strange form of white, consistent, unwavering light greeted them with unnerving eagerness. A glass window unlike any the two had seen before revealed the entire skyline to them, the window taking up the entire wall, as though there was nothing there whatsoever. Vehicles unlike any other could be seen, soaring over the skies like dragonflies, twisting and turning through the air, buildings reaching unfathomable heights, causing the midday light to look as though it were blocked by an interlocking network of passageways, buildings, and transport lines. Small, sleek, foreign weapons were mounted to the side, back, ankle, shoulder, and chest of every man, woman, and what-have-you that traversed this organized mass immigration hub. They looked like crossbows, wands, and various other weapons but appeared strange. Crossbows without tension arms to fire bolts, hilts without blades, wands with bends at the back, creating a sleek, short weapon like grip; all appeared different but were worn like weapons. Seeing this splendidly foreign scene unfold before him, Dreadnought continued speaking. "I don't know what living here is going to be like, but it's going to take some getting used to." He commented.

_**Chapter 1: Purchasing Freedom. End.**_

_** I hope this story is well received. I have noticed low amounts of feedback about stories such as these and I would like to humbly request of all the readers of this story that they let me know what they think. I appreciate feedback of any kind; positive, negative, or anywhere in between. If any of you have any in depth reviews you would like to submit, feel free to send me a PM and I would be more than happy to receive constructive criticism directly. Thank you and as always, read and review.**_


	2. Buying The Whole Big Picture

_**Everything Has A Price**_

_**Chapter 2: Buying the Whole Big Picture.**_

A single man looked over at the two, a human man that appeared cheerful and calm, looked over to them, smirked, and waved them over. They looked to each other, confused before doing as requested. "Hello, newcomers. Ready for your grand tour?" the man asked. Torp looked up to him, still greatly confused before nodding. Dreadnought sat on the ground, looking down to the man, but nodding as well. He then smiled brighter, standing up and using a finger to beckon the two of them closer. When they complied, he reached out, placing his hands on their foreheads, forcing information into their minds, even Dreadnought's construct locked brain.

All that was seen, all which is and is not, was the result of magic; a magic unique to this world, a magic so bewitching and obscure that it altered itself according to those around it. It was what fueled the flying machines, what powered the rotation of the light source in the sky, it was what made up the very ground that Dreadnought and Torp stood on. This universal energy, this all-encompassing force generated reality and twisted space and time as if it were a strip of soft parchment. It behaved like it was inert, incapable of being interacted with willfully or otherwise. It was everything. And everything was strange.

The man retracted his hands, leaving Torp and Dreadnought stunned, staring blankly. Torp's eyes looked to be in a haze and Dreadnought's glowing gem-like eyes were only softly illuminated. "Well, now that orientation's done, is there anything you two would like to declare?" the man asked.

Dreadnought's eyes became brighter and Torp's widened before she shook her head back and forth to regain concentration, returning her eyes to the immigration officer's.

"Yeah, I got something to declare: Living here is going to be fucking weird." He said, blankly, causing the officer to snort before beginning to laugh loudly, disrupting the rest of the office.

"Oh-ho-ho, you have no clue." The man said, wiping away a tear, now only chuckling. "Ah." He sighed. "Alright, what about you, young lady? Any declarations before entering Chronosphere officially?" he asked Torp.

"Yes. I miss my lizard." She said calmly, looking to Dreadnought. He looked away from her, twitting his thumbs. After several moments, he looked back to her, placing a hand on his chest defensively.

"He would have just gotten in the way, besides, we paid enough for that tavern to feed and house him for 20 years!" he said to her.

"And I thought you said "We'll only be gone for a week at most, don't worry about leaving him behind"." She said, standing in her chair, staring him down. The immigration officer pulled at his collar, closing his eyes and laughing awkwardly.

"Um... Well... Yes... Please enjoy your stay in Chronosphere." He said meekly. Torp looked to him before huffing, jumping off the chair and heading out. Dreadnought chuckled, getting up and following her out of the office.

Before the two outstretched a landscape that captivated and awed for reasons thought to be unfathomable. It was like the very world was alive and the skies pulsed with power. The sky seemed to ripple with energy, shifting and swaying and undulating like a fabric, shifting repeatedly between various colors, brightness, and time of day. All around, creatures of differing and even opposing creeds walked in calm, collected motions. On one side of the street, a Tiefling stood, bartering with a celestial while on the other, a Tsochari stands on the shoulder of a red dragon as it sits on the ground, both engaged in a riveting argument over what the most delicious part of a human being is. Dreadnought looked around intently before speaking.

"You ever seen a building made out of metal?" he asked, pointing to a structure that towered over everything in view. Its overall stature was difficult to even guess at. It seemed almost twice as large as the most powerful of dragons and stood on metal legs like stilts with a tall, slender, and curved body.

"Once when I... Whoa..." Torp commented, beginning to answer when she turned to look with him, stopping in her tracks.

"Yeah." Dreadnought replied, spellbound by the skies in particular. They bustled with so many flying machines that they appeared positively teeming with them. They moved in droves, fleets, swarms, pods, every possible description for their course and groups applied, it was, quite simply, astonishing. Dreadnought soon broke away from the astounding sight and began further inspecting the buildings all around. Some looked to be the same small cottages, vender carts, shops, and taverns as one might see in any town, however, some were beyond comprehension. Buildings designed to stand above others, quite literally; some designed to curiously widen as they grow taller, others tapering into a fine point and more still appearing to warp around and against its surroundings, much like a weed.

"Uh... So... Where would be a good place to relax for the evening?" Torp asked, pulling her attention from their surroundings and looking to Dreadnought.

"No idea. I can't tell which way's up, down, left, or right on this thing. All I see is a dot." Dreadnought replied, unfurling the parchment and inspecting it intently. Minutes ticked by as Torp waited and Dreadnought stared at the map, practically motionless while he thought deeply.

"Give me that! You've been staring at it for five minutes and haven't said a fucking thing!" she snapped, using the massive spikes along his body to climb him like a tree and snatching the map from his hands, landing on the ground before him. "Hmm..." she said, staring at the almost completely blank piece of parchment. Dreadnought watched her in turn and she began to feel a single bead of sweat roll down the side of her face. _I have absolutely no idea how to use the thing but he couldn't be allowed to know that or I'll never hear the end of it._ She thought to herself, glancing up to him. _Welp, time to fuck around and hope something works!_ She thought, inspecting the map closer. "Hmm..." she mumbled. "Maybe we're looking at the wrong side?" she asked aloud, flipping the map over, seeing that it was even blanker on that side.

"Give up?" he asked, leaning lower, reaching out towards the map teasingly to take it from her.

"Sh-shut up! You stared at it like some statue for almost 10 minutes and I've only had it for 2!" she fired back, causing his slowly advancing hand to stop and making him grumble.

"Yeah, alright, go for it." He replied. She smirked in victory, looking back down at the conundrum in her hands.

"What about we just wander in a general... That way direction?" she asked, pointing towards a plaza between two massive towers.

"You do realize this city is an entire _infinite plane_, right?" he asked with a deadpanned tone.

"Oh, come on, how could a city be infinite?" she asked.

"Well, according to that... Very Vivid orientation we just got, this place is a network of worlds that connect like a web. Explore one, there's dozens more linked to it in all directions." Dreadnought replied.

"That's annoying. How would anyone get back in a place like this?" she asked.

"Hmm... One of those?" Dreadnought asked, pointing towards one of the flying machines.

"Still. Besides, it seems more like this place replicates itself more than anything else, if you think about it." She offers and then pauses for a moment; "It can't be completely different every single time."

"I suppose that would come down to just how much of it is actually inhabited. It's shaped by the people that live on it. These buildings didn't just build themselves, right?" he said to her.

"They could have." She responds, picking up a rock and flinging it at a wall. "Well, as far as I know, they're at least not alive, so there's that much."

"I guess there's that. Anyway, let's move on. You're starting to look a bit tired." he commented.

"Learn how to read the damn map and we can!" Torp fired back.

"It's not easy reading something that's just a... Huh..." he replied, stopping when his finger swiped the map, causing the dot to drag across the page. He then began fiddling with it, quickly getting the hang of it. "Oh, I see, we were looking at _everything_ not just us..." he commented, tapping on the dot, causing it to zoom in towards it. Soon, the street they were currently on became visible, boxes with numbers and names corresponding to those around them confirming that they were seeing what were on the map.

"Let me see that." Torp replied, holding out her hand. Dreadnought handed her the map, watching as she saw that he had indeed learned how to use the map. "Good job, big guy, now, let's find this tavern, we've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow." She said, gripping some of his spikes and again climbing him and now sitting on his shoulder, holding the map on her knees and showing him where to go.

Within about an hour, they reached a tavern named The Purple Flower. "This looks like a nice place to settle down for the night." Torp commented, rolling up the map and storing it in her satchel before hopping down and walking with Dreadnought inside.

_**Chapter 2: Buying the Whole Big Picture. End.**_

_**And thus concludes chapter two of my story. I hope you all enjoyed it. Word of warning, next chapter's going to be interesting. Our heroes are going to learn firsthand that this tavern is anything but ordinary. As always, read, review, and send me a PM if you've got more substantial comments to make. See you all soon.**_


	3. Buying The Devil's Favor

_**Author's Note:**_

_** This next chapter's where my friend and I meet another character and she decides to join in on our group.**_

_**Chapter 3: Buying the Devil's Favor. Begin.**_

Torp and Dreadnought slowly made their way into the inn, everything possible colored varying shades of purple. When they entered, they were greeted with sights unexpected; women, all in varying states of undress, seeing to men and women alike. They were serving drinks, hors d'oeuvres, and various other questionable services. "I think from now on, I'm going to hold on to the map..." Torp commented, holding out her hand. Dreadnought sighed.

"Honest mistake, I didn't know this place was a brothel and it was the only thing marked for miles that we could spend the night in." he replied, handing her the map.

"Yeah, yeah, sure it was." she said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, how grand! Customers! Ladies! Come and give our guests a warm welcome!" the large human woman at the desk said, clapping several times gleefully. On the desk was a plaque with the name "Madame Pourpre" Within several moments, the women that weren't busy attending other guests strutted over, most smiling warmly. One stood, her hands on her hips, a look of boredom in her eyes. She wore a black corset and black and red undergarments, her long black hair flowing down to her thighs.

"I haven't felt so welcome ever since the giants almost had me at a feast." Torp chimes, flicking her hands in a grandiose fashion.

"And even though I'm not exactly into sexual favor, I must say; you are all breathtaking." Dreadnought said, leaning down as to bow respectfully. When he rose back to his full height, he spoke again. "My apologies, Madame, but we do not require the services of your women. Simply a room for the night." Dreadnought said, looking back to the large woman behind the desk.

"Ah. Very well, ladies, you may return to your stations." The Madame said, nodding and reaching for a room key.

"You know; in retrospect a foot massage and plenty of compliments would be, at the very least humorous." Torp comments, smirking softly.

"Whatever floats your boat. Have a blast." Dreadnought replied, handing her a bag of coins.

"Oh a goblin with money. Cherish the world, taller things, while you can." She mumbles holding the bag in her hands malevolently. Dreadnought overhears her and sighs, taking the room key and heading towards their room for the night. "Their services are... What? Ten? Twenty copper?" Torp asks the head of the brothel.

"10 copper per hour for each lady, 15 for the one that just followed your friend." she replies, smirking slightly as she turns from Torp and rearranging the keys on the wall.

Dreadnought soon reached the room, settling onto the floor and pulling down his blindfold, beginning to whittle in silence. He then immediately realized that there was another presence in his room with him, however, he simply continued his work, making himself appear as though he were ignorant to the intruder. In the far corner of Dreadnought's room stood the woman with long black hair from before, only this time around, her eyes changed to a deep violet-red and her hair seemed to change color, as though it were being doused with crimson die as she walked silently forward. From her back, smoke trailed, forming into long, black, bat-like wings as a long, black tail slithered out from under the slight overhang of her corset. She approached slowly, strutting like a predator with lust in her eyes.

"Oh~ Look at you, all by yourself~ How about you and I have some real fun, big boy~?" she asked, kneeling next to him, wrapping her arms around his thick, metal upper arm.

"Succubus, even if I wished to and your charms were sincere, you would get nothing out of your advances." Dreadnought replied in a deep, calm tone.

"Why's that? Ill-equipped?" she asked in a teasing tone.

"No, I'm immune to your draining embrace." He replied, turning in her direction and lifting his blindfold.

"Hmm~... And here I was thinking you just had some armor on... Oh well~ Another boring night for me..." she said, sighing and standing up before making her way towards the door.

"If you're after something to do, I have some extra wood and some tools if you're interested." Dreadnought mentioned, reaching into his pack and pulling them out.

"And risk breaking one of these perfectly manicured nails? I think not~. Thanks for the offer though, Sweetie~"

"I've faced your kind before. Not too great in a fight, but sneaky. Good at slipping in undetected... Looking for a different line of work?" he asked, glancing over at her. His words stopped her in her tracks.

"A strange question... What kind of pay could I get if I took you up on your offer?" She asked in response, leaning up against the door, crossing her arms under her bust.

"Better than what you can clear in a joint like this, that's for sure. Not to mention, you'd be moving; makes it an awful lot easier to avoid guards after hunting, wouldn't it?" he asked, his voice adopting a rather playful tone.

"Mmm... A big, strong man to protect little ole me, free meals, see the sights, and not have to deal with the same sleaze bags every night?" she said, walking up to him, kneeling down and staring into his glowing eyes. "I'm getting wet just thinking about it..." she whispered, leaning forward. "...Where do I sign up?" she asked.

"Meet me and the little red girl on our way out tomorrow morning. If you've got gear, bring it." He replied.

"Oh poo~ You're no fun!" she said, standing up and sauntering away. "See you in the morning, Big Boy~ Name's Nylara, by the way..." she said, winking at him before walking out of the room and closing the door.

"Dreadnought." He replied simply, resuming his work.

After about an hour of pretending to tell people's fortunes in the main hall, Torp walked into her and Dreadnought's room, closing and locking the door. She then removed her cloak and hung it up, revealing rich, black hair that flowed down to the middle of her back. "Ugh... You were right; I was tired. I should have come back here before I had those girls start rubbing... I can hardly walk..." she said, making her way to her bed sluggishly.

"Glad you enjoyed yourself. How much of my money survived?" Dreadnought replied, glancing over at her as she plopped down on the bed face first.

"Mph. Hnn-hdda" she mumbled, pulling out the bag and tossing it in his general direction. He caught it and felt that it was only about 6 copper left.

"Jease, did you pay them for more than just a massage!?" Dreadnought asked, looking at her. Torp shot up, a pink blush on her cheeks as she stared at him.

"I can't believe you've even insinuate such a thing!" she shot back, her face burning.

"Just asking because there's almost nothing left out of 70 copper pieces." He replied, chuckling at her reaction.

"I... Made a donation..." she replied, blushing softly and looking away from him before leaning down into her bed.

"Sure you did... Anyway, get some rest." He said, turning back to his woodworking. Seeing as the room was rather small, he got up, opening the door and leaving, making sure that the door had locked behind him. He sat in the main hall, looking out towards the ever shifting sky. It changed to rhythmic patterns of night, flashing between hundreds of foreign skies, all of which dark.

"Looking for some company?" Nylara asked, slinking up next to him while he sat.

"Looking for some peace. You?" he replied, pulling a chair up next to him.

"Entertainment. And a bit of relaxation." She said, sitting down. Currently, she was wearing what could simply be described as just a long, thin, white satin scarf that was wrapped around her various sensitive regions as she strutted about in her native state, her tail softly meandering with each step she'd take and her bat wings clinging to her body.

"This place isn't like anything else I've ever seen before." Dreadnought said with his gaze locked to the ever changing sky.

"You have no idea. Boring as it may be, it's the one place a girl can stretch her wings without getting stabbed." Nylara said, stretching herself out.

"I can see how that's a bonus for you." Dreadnought said, glancing in her direction, paying her dress no mind.

"Mnn! Oh yeah... And the weather's amazing~" she replied, leaning back in her chair.

"Is it now? Just seemed like the same day in and day out." Dreadnought said, looking back to the sky.

"That's why it's so great. Never a rainy cloud in the sky, never a bad day, always sunny, warm, and beautiful!" she replied.

"Ah, I don't pay too much attention to it."

"You don't pay attention to a lot, do you, Big Boy?" Nylara asked in a teasing voice.

"Just where the next arrow's going to come from and what needs to get hit." He replied.

"Oh~? Come now, I'm sure there must be a lady in your life for you to turn away from me..." Nylara asked, smirking. Immediately after asking, Dreadnought's demeanor grew cooler and more solemn. "What happened to her?" she asked, her tone growing soft and her eyes shining with as much worry as she could muster for this metal stranger.

"Me..." he replied in a low, gravelly voice.

"For what it's worth, I'm sure she's in a better place."

"I know she is. I await the day when I can have my Hero's Death and meet her once more." He said in a soft tone, looking down into his hands, thinking of his lost friend.

"I don't mean to upset you, but I can see her in your mind right now; would you like me to pretend to be her? Just for this night?" Nylara asked, looking at him with gentle eyes.

"No. That would feel too much like taking her from her deserved place in Valhalla. Though I would like to make a request." He replied, looking back up at the shifting stars as aurora flickered in the skies.

"What is it?"

"If you are there, on the day of my death on the battlefields, I'd like to see her..." he replied, his voice shaky, like he were almost crying, but his crystalline eyes incapable of making the tears. "Just... Just in case I don't see her after..." he said, looking to her with shimmering eyes.

Nylara sat in silence before replying. "No." she said simply, causing Dreadnought to stare at her in confusion. "I won't do that. I won't because I know that after that brief moment when you pass on, she'll be there to greet you at the gates of Valhalla with open arms!" she continued, staring into his eyes with determination. Dreadnought looked away from her, looking at his hands in silence for several moments before speaking again.

"Thank you for that." He said softly, his voice sounding like he was smiling, even though his face remained motionless.

"Don't get all soft like this. You're going to be our muscle. We can't have you squishy like the rest of us." She replied, smiling, causing Dreadnought to laugh softly. "See you in the morning. It's getting late, even for me." She said, getting up and heading off.

"Yeah." He said simply, waving to her as she left, reaffixing his eyes on the sky. Nylara looked into his mind again and smiled as she could feel what he felt; joy.

_**End Chapter 3: Buying The Devil's Favor.**_

_**So, what did you all think of the new character? She's going to be an interesting addition to the team and her player is a confident one, if still a bit new to the game. As always, read, review, and send me any PMs if you all have any thoughts you'd like to share. See you all again soon.**_


	4. The Price of the Divine

_**Author's Note:**_

_** Alright, my goal for this story is, in the next two chapters, to earn up to 75 views. D&D is not dead, damn it! Everyone spread the word. Show writers and supporters of the game like me that you all love this game! Give every story on this site about D&D that you find a chance to prove its worth; read the first chapter at the very least, drop a message to the writer after and show them that there are others out there that love this game. Sorry for getting all Braveheart there for a moment, I just find the sheer lack of support for this fantastic game's writers appalling. Anyway, on with the chapter.**_

_**Chapter 4: The Price of the Divine.**_

"I knew we shouldn't have waited for her; she's an hour late." Torp said, grumbling as she stood up from her seat on one of the chairs in the back exit to the Purple Flower.

"She'll be here, just give it time." Dreadnought replied, lifting a hand in a 'halt' gesture.

"I'll give her another 10 minutes. If she's not here by then, I'm heading on ahead. If you want to wait for her, that's fine, but I'm not." She replies, crossing her arms and looking down.

"Noted." Dreadnought replied simply. In another minute or two, a brilliant white and red flash erupted from an empty place nearby the two of them, temporarily blinding all who were standing in the area. After about two seconds or so, the blindness faded, revealing Nylara, standing in its place with a scythe slung over her shoulder. The blade looked marred from years of use but ornately crafted and still in beautiful condition. She stood before them in a suit of wonderfully crafted and detailed armor. It looked to be made of interlocking plates so light and smooth; it was like a scale male, only appearing bulkier. As she approached Torp and Dreadnought, however, she moved with grace that made it seem like this suit of armor was just as light as her regular clothes. Despite the extent of maneuverability that this plate armor possessed, it was, by far, the most conservative garment that she likely had in her repertoire. Her shadow then flickered, moving and writhing as a creature of pure darkness slithered out of it, drifting next to her.

"I love to arrive fashionably late. And it feels oh so good to be beckoned~" Nylara replied, placing her unoccupied hand on her forehead, looking up to the sky momentarily before glancing back down at Torp.

"Yeah... Anyway, we've got to hit the road and double time it to get to the first portal before it gets too dark." Dreadnought said, causing Nylara to look to him, annoyed as he ignored her grand entrance. She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest at this. Torp then turned and began walking out of the courtyard, Dreadnought following suit and Nylara sighing, following at the back.

"Alright... Now that we're actually a group, what are we even doing?" Nylara asks, checking her nails as she flies gracefully behind Dreadnought.

"We're moving from planet to planet until we can find an uninhabited one and set up a decent place to settle. From there, we're going to continue exploring this place. She's got a dragon problem and I'm looking for a good fight." Dreadnought replied.

"Aaaand... Why are we doing this exactly?" she asked, floating in front of him, keeping ahead of him with ease.

"Because it's a hell of a lot easier than just scouring the Material Plain for a dragon that's likely hiding out or isn't very active. And personally; I've always wanted to slay a dragon, but the opportunity has never presented itself. Win-win for me and Torp." He replied.

"Yeah, you ever try finding a dragon by name when you don't even know what race of dragon they are? Not easy." Torp chimed in.

"So... We're basically just wandering?" Nylara asked, looking from one to the other. Dreadnought nodded and Torp simply remained silent. "Well isn't this just wonderful?! I'm here, walking forever with a pair of idiots!" she said, lowering herself to the ground dramatically.

"Well, you can always go back to your job as a whore. Dreadnought and I can manage perfectly well without you..." Torp replied, peering back at her with a smirk.

"Funny because he said that your psionics weren't pulling their weight all that much." She retorted.

"That coming from the bitch whose only tactic in combat is hiding and hoping their shadow can soften them up!"

"It's called stealth, you hussy!" Nylara fired back.

"Slut!" Torp countered.

"Twirp!"

"No, it's Torp, you ignoramus." Torp replied, an arrogant look in her golden eyes.

"What!? NO! I... UGH!" Nylara shouted, crossing her arms before stomping off, Torp giggling victoriously.

Dreadnought just stood there, glad he didn't have skin or he'd be covered in sweat as that was the only time in his entire life that he'd been afraid. Putting on a brave façade, Dreadnought stood on his back legs, grabbing Nylara with one hand and Torp with the other, continuing to hold the two of them as he walked on. They eventually gave up struggling against his vise like grip and just didn't look at one another as they were carried like trophies, Nylara's Shadow following along silently.

The trip continued like that for about half an hour when Nylara inhaled and immediately covered her nose. "Oh, _goddamn!_ What the fuck!? Who's burning sulfur mixed with bat shit?!" she shouted, waving her hand in front of her face.

"Bat... **FUCK!**_ Scatter!_" Dreadnought shouted, throwing the two of them to either side of himself, causing them to impact into the buildings around them as they were passing through a very large street that was completely empty - all observers clearing a 100 foot berth for the hulking metal behemoth of a man. In less than a second after Dreadnought's surprisingly quick and mildly painful action, a massive fireball erupted upon him, his form momentarily becoming nothing but a ball of light and radiating heat. Soon, the fire receded, leaving a plume of smoke in its wake, the brute still obscured from vision. It was in that time that a woman descended from above them, a simple, modest, white robe adorning her lean, toned figure. In her hand, she held a sword and in the other, a now molten and dripping golden amulet in her hand, its power drained in her attack.

Torp was dazed by Dreadnought's toss and was currently lifting herself from the pavement, Nylara, on the other hand, was hardly phased, her sturdy skin holding up to Dreadnought's hurl. She stared on at the angel, venom seething in both their eyes as they simply remained, both motionless and rigid. The winged woman stepped toward Nylara, slowly and with vehement in her strides, her hand waving, a white light washing over her mace.

"If you have a reason for travelling these streets, _devil_, speak it now, while you're still here!" she commanded, lifting her mace above her head as she now stood over Nylara. However, Nylara was so surprised by the last several seconds, her eyes now locked on the glowing, holy mace lingering above her head. "No words? Then be gone with thee!" she shouted, her mace descending rapidly. Nylara's eyes shut, her body still frozen in fright and surprise. The sound of metal slamming into even tougher metal was heard like a thunderhead through the street. Nylara's eyes fluttered open to see a black and gray object mere inches from her face, leading to her peripheral vision. Her eyes trailed the strange form, revealing it to be none other than the mighty Dreadnought, his hand gripping the mace head, small chunks of his armor crumbling from his fist and shards of glass dribbling from his chest where his other hand was, a bluish, viscous liquid running down his body, some of his charred metal brightening slowly.

"You better have one FUCKING good reason for attacking MY FRIENDS!" he shouted in anger, his eyes positively burning with maleficent intent. The angel struggled to answer his question, Dreadnought's hand clasped tighter and tighter around her mace, the sound of metal crinkling and snapping audible throughout the alleyway. "I will not ask again..." he said, his voice low and his towering form casting a frightening shadow over Nylara, allowing her to dive and hide, her shade drifting over with her.

"This involves you not, construct, take the red one and leave." The angel finally stated, staring at him with anger in her eyes. As all this had transpired, Torp got to her feet, healing herself and preparing a psionic power for the next opportunity.

Torp then whistled condescendingly, gaining the angel's attention before speaking. "Before he kicks your feathered ass up and down this road, bird brain, allow me to point out your mistakes. First; hitting him with a fireball was a smart move, but incredibly stupid because it didn't kill him. Second; calling him a construct – just not smart. Third; attacking him and then his friends while he was still alive. FYI: friends mean more to him than the gods you serve do to you. Fourth; telling him that you drawing a weapon on one of his friends "involves him not". That pissed me off and I don't even like the chick! And most importantly – fifth; not running when you got a good look in his eyes." The angel looked back up at Dreadnought, her face draining of all color and her eyes widening. In the darkness of his shadow, his blood-fueled crimson eyes were all that could be seen, the age marks, divits and scratches showing up in the contrast. The angel looked as though she were to back away, however, she closed her hand tightly into a solid fist, swinging full bore at Dreadnought's face. A metal thunk rattled throughout the corridor, Dreadnought recoiling from the impact, however, he immediately turned back to look her in the eyes yet again, not even a scratch on him.

"One last time; leave here. Now. And you live to fight for your "glorious" deities another day." Dreadnought said clearly, leaning forward until his eyes were mere inches from hers.

"You scare me not, machine; I am prepared to die on this day." She replied.

"So am I." he replied, taking several steps back, dropping to his arms and legs. The angel replaced both her hands upon her damaged but still functional mace. Behind the angel, a wall remained, causing Dreadnought to instinctually lower his head and neck to prepare for the impact.

A split second elapsed and all was a blur, every motion streaking and every sound delayed. The two powerhouses bolted towards one another, their attacks in perfect sync. There was no delay in the timing of the strikes, the winner was to be decided by this single attack; the deciding factor was power. Grey with black and white with gold collided in blinding ferocity, then the colors merged into monotonous silver before streaking towards the masonry building. The impact was thunderous and yielded nothing but awe to Torp and Nylara as they sat, completely speechless with a frightening calm settling over the street. Choked gasps escaped the inky abyss that was the inside of this building as Dreadnought had used his full strength against this single angel, crashing the both of them through it. Several more, roaring impacts could be heard from within the darkness, then, the all-consuming silence once again regained its wretched grasp on the scene. Torp and Nylara stood, both barely containing their anxiety as moments ticked by, still nothing emerging victorious from the nightmarish cove. Nylara sat, with her shadow at an angle too sharp with regards to the cavity to see in, her muscles frozen out of fear. _How... How could... Anyone... Any__**thing**__ be that fucking strong... The wall... and the angel... at the same time... Like it was nothing to him... Who... __**What**__ is he? _Nylara thought to herself as she sat back, her heart pounding in her chest. Torp was too distant from the hole to see within, her body remaining still as well.

Rustling finally broke the deadly silence; the victor emerging from the silence. Dreadnought's damaged, aged, charred, and blood soaked form trudged out of the shadows, his eyes back to their ordinary level of brightness and his motions somewhat sluggish. He looked back to the darkness, turning and immediately looking towards Torp. She nodded in silence, sprinting into the black with her hands pulling out several small vials. Dreadnought then followed her in, rustling audible before Dreadnought walked out, following Torp with the angel alive and visibly breathing but unconscious in his arms.

Torp popped the cork off a potion, draining it into the woman's mouth, leaving several more at her side along with a note. Without a word spoken, Dreadnought looked to Nylara, pining his neck at her in a gesture for her to come and the three embarked, leaving the angel to regain her bearings in solitude.

She quickly stirred to life, grumbling and rubbing her head as she leaned forward, the vials jingling beside her, drawing her attention to the note written by none other than Dreadnought's immense hands.

_"Sorry for having to do that; I don't kill anymore unless there's no option. As a warrior, I know the disgrace of a loss and the burden of having to carry the shame, so, I offer you these potions to heal your wounds and come seek me out again. Train, grow, learn, and prepare. I look forward to sharing the battlefield with you again, comrade."_

_ - Dreadnought_

_**End Chapter 4: The Price of the Divine.**_

_** I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Believe it or not, this entire fight was subverted because the angel that attacked our group announced her presence and immediately challenged Nylara to a battle, however, through some clever improvisation from Torp and Nylara, she became so confused that Nylara and Dreadnought took their leave. As always, read, review, and PM me if you so choose. Until next time, all ye faithful.**_


	5. Bought Afterlife

_**Author's Note:**_

_** Early or not, I'd like to thank you all that are supporting this story. I'd still be trudging along with this project regardless, but it means a lot to know just how many people out there love this game. I'm going to be blunt in saying that continuations of this story are dependent on how often my friends actually play as I don't like writing what the characters do. I prefer having the players actually playing their own characters.**_

_**Chapter 5: Bought Afterlife**_

It had been more than three days and still, scrapes and char marks remained on Dreadnought's armor. Torp struggled with a mild concussion and Nylara had spent the first day after the fight with the angel staring fearfully at Dreadnought. The group had mostly remained silent as they walked on towards the docking station they'd set their sights on. It had finally came into view in the skyline; a massive plateau where flying machines of colossal proportions docked for short times, then departed through the massive floating disks in the skies. With his armor still damaged and his body only slowly repairing itself due to his years of physical training, Dreadnought was in the back of the two women, maintaining his blindfold over his eyes to remain vigilant.

"We're going to be there in about two hours. Can we trust that your remaining wounds are not serious?" Torp asked, looking back at Dreadnought. He nodded calmly in response. "Good. Succubus; can you teleport over there and check what times the airships will be departing? Check for anything scheduled to leave more than two and a half hours from now." Nylara nodded, flapping her wings once to stretch them out before closing her eyes and disappearing in a puff of red and silver smoke.

"So, you sure you're actually doing alright? I know you're pretty big and in more than good enough condition to move on your own, but I've never seen you that angry. Even when you've enraged before, you've never looked that upset." Torp said, coming up to Dreadnought.

"I'm alright. What really got me was how she looked at Nylara. It was the same level of disgust my former commanders used to look upon me with after the treaty declaring my race free. The absolute disdain that comes from denial." Dreadnought said, settling onto the ground.

"Denial?" Torp asked.

"Yes. See, during the Last War, my kind were commissioned and shipped all across Eberron as soldiers. Made to fight to the death so others didn't have to. Made to die so others could keep their fathers and sons. They saw us as objects. No emotions were used towards my kind, that way, when we were killed, no tears were shed. But when the treaty was signed, the other races were quickly sent into an uproar."

"Because they had to see you as people?" Torp asked, understanding.

"Exactly. They couldn't let themselves see us as people or they'd feel unfathomably guilty about enslaving us. So, they hated us. Hated us because it was easier. That feeling of hatred because it was easy... That was what I saw in that angel's eyes." Dreadnought said softly, pushing up his blindfold. Torp sat beside him in silence before reaching out and taking his massive hand in both of hers, hugging his arm softly.

"You were protecting her like she was Belladonna, weren't you?" she asked with a gentle smile and a soft gleam in her eyes.

Dreadnought remained silent for a moment before nodding. "On the first night I met Nylara, she read my thoughts and offered to be Belladonna. If only for a night. Still trying to figure out how she got into this metal skull 'a mine, but besides that, I declined her offer. You know why." He replied.

"I know. Don't worry, Big Guy; you'll see her again one day. I know you will." Torp said, patting the top of his hand gently. She then stood up and began walking on ahead and letting her massive friend remain to his thoughts. Nylara then returned and Torp waved her over, speaking to her in private.

"What is it?" Nylara asked, confused.

"He's rather down; you think you could polymorph into something to cheer him up? I don't know what to suggest, but go for something innocent, not lusty; he doesn't respond to that." She said, pointing to Dreadnought as he remained on the curb of the street where he'd sat down.

"I'll see what I can do." Nylara replied, teleporting away and shape shifting before beginning to walk towards Dreadnought.

"Mister? Are you sad?" she asked, in the guise of a small elven child with silver hair and a light complexion in a yellow dress.

Dreadnought looked over to the small child and chuckled softly. "No, child, just lost in a memory is all." He replied.

"Did it make you sad? Your eyes look like you need to cry." She asked, sitting down beside him.

"I guess you found me out. I was remembering an old friend. Someone I used to be very close to."

"Were they nice?" she asked.

"Yes, they were very nice. They were an elf; just like you. She had long, golden hair and a smile that made everyone around her happy." He replied with a bittersweet tone.

"Did you have to say goodbye?" she asked, a soft, worried look in her big, bright eyes.

"I did..." he said with a low voice.

"Then go find her! If you said goodbye, then you can say hello again, right? So come on!" she said, standing up and grabbing one of his massive fingers, giving it a soft tug as her small body wasn't very strong. Dreadnought watched the small girl pulling at his finger for several moments. "Come... Ah-on! You can't look for her if you're sitting here like a sad person! Go! Ugh... Find her!" she said, continuing to pull at his finger. His eyes brightened slowly at this, standing up and pretending to stumble forward at her tugging. "There! Now go find your friend! I'd help but..." she said, looking down, kicking a small rock.

"Go back to your mother, little one, but thank you. And here, for helping me when I needed it." Dreadnought said, handing the little girl one of his wooden sculptures and patting her on the head gently. She smiled widely, hugging the wooden Stag that he'd carved, running away laughing happily.

"Thanks mister! I hope you find your friend!" she shouted back. She then turned around at a corner, her smile fading as she shifted back, staring at the wooden toy. "You'll see her again someday, my friend." She said softly to herself, putting the stag into her bag that she'd hidden in the alley and teleporting back to stand with Torp.

"How did it go?" Torp asked.

"It went well, but don't mention her for a while, he needs time to think still. I looked at the departures for the far worlds and the earliest is tomorrow at noon." Nylara replied.

"Then we'll find an inn for the night and let him continue to think." Torp said, Nylara agreeing. The two then walked up to Dreadnought, explaining their situation.

"Then a room it is." He replied. They then continued on, following the map to a small inn in the middle of a relatively empty street.

"Greeting's sir. How may I assist you?" the young woman at the counter asked Dreadnought.

"A room for the night, if you'd be so kind." He replied.

"For all three of you? Sir, that simply won't do! Ladies need their privacy!" the woman insisted.

"Very well, two rooms then. How much will that come to, miss?" he asked, pulling out his coin purse.

"Eight silver crowns, sir." The young woman replied. "I'm reducing the costs because I can tell the three of you could really use a nice room for the night." She said, leaning in and whispering to Dreadnought with a soft wink.

"Thank you, miss. Have a nice afternoon." Dreadnought said, nodding and taking the key to his room, handing Torp the key to her and Nylara's room. He led them to their room, it was across from his in the hall and both looked to be of good condition.

"See ya tomorrow, Big Boy~" Nylara said to Dreadnought, winking as she closed the door.

"Was that entirely necessary?" Torp asked, somewhat unamused.

"Of course! He needs some time to himself, so he needs to feel valued, doesn't he?" she replied.

"I guess. Let's just grab a hot bath and get to bed." Torp suggested, hanging up her cloak. Nylara nodded, removing her finely crafted armor and hanging it up as well, the two women heading towards the rather large, spa-like bathroom.

Dreadnought sat calmly in the middle of his room, concentrating on the last several chinks in his armor. When they'd healed, he turned toward the bathroom, making his way to a below-ground tub of concrete. He turned on the water and sat in the center of it as it filled, the water already working to wash away the charring on his metal exterior and allowing him to relax somewhat, his mind free to wander.

_**Flashback: Changeling Stronghold, The Last War.**_

_ The skies were completely black that night; the air smelling of sulfur and blood. Despite that, I could still smell the lilac essence she wore that evening. I remember her black brazier she decided to wear that night, a grey shirt underneath and black pants with flat-soled boots. As we snuck inside the tower, she would peek back at me, her violet eyes shimmering with determination and pride in me managing to remain silent despite my bulk. However; the intel was bad. Their ringleader was a Doppleganger and they sensed us coming long before we even saw them. All we could do was walk right into a trap; an ambush. I moved in the way of most of the arrows, protecting her as best I could, but she was still hit. She took it like a champ, releasing arrows of her own and taking their archers down quickly. She then pulled her sword, fighting the remainder of them, but she was quickly getting tired. Endurance was never her strong suit and dodging that many swings for that long takes a toll on most people. I ran in to back her up, swinging wide to clear out a group. "The Heavy-Handed Hop-Up" she called it. She would jump above my fists as I swung and land on it, jumping off my backswing and tackling a target... But she was slow that time... When she went down... I... I killed them... I killed them all. When I returned to her side; her lavender eyes were dull, her lips blue and her skin as white as snow. All I could do was hold her while she looked at me._

_ "Belladonna, you stay with me!" I shouted, feeling my eyes shimmer like tears were flowing. "We'll get a medic! You're going to be fine! I... I'm sorry... Just stay with me!"_

_ "R-remember... Ack!... Remember when... We challenged each other...? My speed versus your b-brawn? You... Uch... think this c-counts?" she asked, her voice quaking and her eyes watering while she coughed up blood._

_ "Bel... No. No, you weren't at your best. Now stay with me; we still need to have that fight!" I replied, holding her tight to me._

_ "N-neither were... Neither were you, old friend... I think this counts..." she said, smiling weakly._

_ "It wasn't supposed to be like this! Damnit you stay here! You... You can't leave me! Belladonna... I... I love you! It took all these years, but I know it's real! Please don't leave me!" I pleaded, my voice strained._

_ "I... love you too... Metalhead... I... I'll be waiting for you on The Fields..." she replied, her words were only whispers now as I held her in a hug. I felt her warm blood run down my chest, but it wasn't just her blood... She bled her love onto me. She kissed me on the cheek after that, her love staining my armor. I felt her heart stop and her life kiss me goodbye... I lowered her to the ground and saw that in her last moments, she had a smile on her face and tears of joy staining her soft cheeks. _

_ "I'll... I'll see you on The Fields... My Lovely Belladonna..." I said, leaning forward and kissing her forehead._

_**End Flashback: Dreadnought's Room.**_

Dreadnought illuminated his eyes, looking deep into the now blackened water around him in the tub. He sat in silence that night, not crafting any wooden sculptures, not repairing himself, but writing. Writing in Elven. The only word in Elven he knew. _"Love."_ He wrote it over and over, folding the paper and removing one of the gauntlets locked onto his fists. Beneath the gauntlet, his true hand could be seen; aged, blackened blood stained his fist, seeped into a single word carved into his knuckles. "Bella" it read. He placed the note overtop the word, locking his gauntlet back into place.

_I will meet you on The Fields of Valhalla, My Lovely._ He thought to himself as dawn broke.

_**End Chapter 5: Bought Afterlife**_

_** Well, faithful readers; there you have it. The tragic love story of Dreadnought.**_


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